


The Light Behind Your Eyes

by PonineSheKnowsHerWayAround



Series: Barricade Boys: Reincarnation [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Granjolras, Les Mis - Freeform, Les Miserables - Freeform, Pirate AU, au time period, courfeyrac and jehan, enjoltaire - Freeform, exr - Freeform, les mis reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:01:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PonineSheKnowsHerWayAround/pseuds/PonineSheKnowsHerWayAround
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE*<br/>This is not a direct parallel to the original barricade rebellion in Les Mis. It has some similarities, though. Basically, the barricade boys are reincarnated BACK in time. and they are awesome motherfucking badass pirates. cawcaw motherfuckers! Enjoy!! :) inspired by the lyrics of "the light behind your eyes" by mcr<br/>UPDATE: Okay so basically my shit friends decided to start doing dramatic readings of my fic in public and at school, and they changed the names of my barricade boy characters to Robin and Batman. so I decided to take them down and change my username. I hope you continue to read. I had a lot of views and nice comments, so I want to thank you guys. This won't happen again. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Light Behind Your Eyes

The captain had one foot propped on the railing of the forecastle, gazing out into the vast sea with his bronze telescope pressed to his eye. The waves were crashing upon the side of the ship, Les Amis, and the rainclouds forming above made the captain's men feel uneasy. He lowered his spyglass and turned to face his crew of a hundred men, and all were staring at him. All awaiting instructions.

"Have faith." shouted the captain. "There are ways that a people can fight. We shall overcome their power." He promised.

Several of the men turned back to their work- preparing the cannons, raising the sails. However, eight men stayed behind. These were the eight men who always seemed to stay behind- who always seemed to stay by their captain's side unconditionally. The captain's memory of his life before piracy was hazy. However, Courfeyrac, Jehan, Joly, Bossuet, Feuilly, Combeferre, little Gavroche, and Bahorel had been in the captain's memory for as long as he could remember. And each of the men were never ones to doubt their captain- who was, in fact, perfectly fit to be a leader.

The men joined their captain on the forecastle and each stood side by side; sharing a bond that was simply unbreakable.

“A man’s trust,” Said the captain, “is a very delicate thing to request. For me to ask you to have a sort of blind faith in me...I understand it isn’t the fairest thing for me to do.”

“We’re ready to fight to free Europe.” Said Courfeyrac.

“We’re ready to die for the cause.” Added Jehan.

The captain smiled thankfully as he stared out into the sea, saying nothing. “Enjolras.” Said Courfeyrac. “Tell us where you need us the most.”

Captain Enjolras turned around to face his men. “I want you on deck when the battle begins. Each of you are good with a gun or two. But not you, Gavroche. I want you below. You’ll be safe there.”

Gavroche immediately protested. “Oi! I’m as much of a man as anyone else here.” Gavroche, being only about 12 years old, thought himself invincible. However, the others didn’t know just how much trouble Gavroche could get himself into, and they didn’t want to find out.

Enjolras got down on one knee and took Gavroche’s hands. “Well, there is something you can do. It’s a very important job, though. Do you think you can help me.”  
“Of course, sir!” Said Gavroche happily.

Enjolras smiled and patted Gavroche’s head. “I need you to be in charge of the cargo hold, okay?” Enjolras knew that the enemy was not going to pillage before the battle was done. “When all the fighting is done, take the secret passage you built to my quarters and wait for one of us to come for you.”  
“Aye, cap’n!”

￼“Good.” Enjolras said, standing up. He cracked his neck. “For now, go help the men prepare the cannons, and tell them one man for each thirty cannons. I want fifty men on deck, and the rest guarding the lower decks of the ship. Got it?”

Gavroche nodded eagerly before sprinting down the stairs of the forecastle, shouting Enjolras’s orders to the crew. Enjolras and the others smiled after brave Gavroche.  
“You sure have a way with children.” Said Courfeyrac.

“Well, I’m no you.” He cleared his throat. “I want all of you but Courfeyrac on the main deck fighting. Courfeyrac, I want you below guarding Gavroche.”  
Jehan immediately opened his mouth in protest. “But, captain!” Everyone turned to look at him. He blushed. “May...may I guard Courfeyrac...if you please?” Enjolras scoffed smiling lightly he rolled his eyes. “It is time to be a man, Jehan. I need you here.” The others turned back to Enjolras, but Courfeyrac and Jehan’s eyes remained locked. Jehan was obviously upset. Even tears were rising to his eyes. But Courfeyrac nodded at him, biting his lip to keep it from trembling. Jehan nodded back.

Joly cleared his throat and spoke up. “Enjolras, there is a way that I can help.”

Enjolras cleared his throat. “What part of ‘I need you here’ is so impossible for you to understand?”

“ I beg you to listen to me, sir.” He said. “I can use the rope on the main mast to jump across to the other ship.”

”That is not a job for only one man.” Said Bossuet. “I’ll go as well. We can go armed, and take out as many men as we can. If it’s possible, maybe we can disable their cannons.”

“Two men isn’t nearly enough for that. We’ll need all of us.”

These men had never been ones to ignore their captain, but each of them seemed to be in agreement with the idea. Enjolras had always been quite willing to throw himself to death. None of the others were opposed to the idea either.

“Men!” Enjolras raised his voice. “I beg of you. I need you here.”

“We’re willing to die for the cause.” Said Combeferre.

“Then die by my side.” Enjolras replied.

A silence fell among the men before a man in the crows nest saw the enemy ship’s black sails appear over the horizon illuminated by the setting sun.

“It is time.” Said Enjolras. No part of him doubted that it was likely this was the last time he would see his friends alive. They all looked to the western horizon and stared at the approaching vessel. “Thank you,” Said Enjolras, “For standing by me. May God watch over us.” The men each shook hands, hugged, or clasped shoulders as Enjolras announced that it was time to take position. After they said their goodbyes, they departed, spreading out across the main deck. Courfeyrac and Jehan were the only who stayed behind.

￼Tears were rising in Courfeyrac’s eyes. “I think it is time for me to go below.” Jehan’s jaw was clenched to keep from crying. He nodded stiffly.

“Be safe tonight, Jean.” Courfeyrac’s voice was hoarse from holding back tears and swallowing his sadness.

Despite both man’s immense bravery, they were each other’s weakness. If Enjolras saw them break down, surely he would be disappointed. Jehan stood tall with his head held high. From a distance, nobody could see his watery eyes except Courfeyrac. “Who’s to say we are to die?” Jehan laughed through his own breaking voice.

Courfeyrac’s lip trembled as he stepped forward and locked Jehan in a tight embrace. They stood like that briefly, but they both wished it could last forever. Courfeyrac buried his face into Jehan’s shoulder, small sobs escaping his throat.

Jehan pulled away and held onto Courfeyrac’s arms for dear life. “Be safe for me. Come back to me after. If I could be with you after the battle, I would take you to sleep and never take the light behind your eyes. One day, we’ll loose this fight. As we fade in the dark, just remember you will always burn as bright.”

Courfeyrac nodded and took Jehan’s hand. “We’ll say goodbye today. And we must be strong.”

“Although Enjolras is married to the freedom of the seas, there is nothing nor any person that I will ever love more than you.” Confessed Jehan.

Courfeyrac smiled as tears rolled down his cheeks. Jehan cupped his face in his hands and kissed him gently. Just for a few moments, they were pressed against each other, lips parted and free, arms holding bodies, never wanting to let go. They parted and both nodded. “I love you, Jehan.” Then, with nothing more, Courfeyrac turned and headed below to the lower decks.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Captain Alesander stood at the wheel of the ship, steering towards the Les Amis, but prepared to take it from the side and attack with multitudes with cannons. Droplets of rain began to fall from the sky, but Alesander hardly seemed to notice.

The crew was working hard below- raising the war sails, loading the canons, and getting equipped with weapons. Alesander sensed someone approaching him from behind before either had spoken.

“My Lord.” Said a voice. It was Alesander’s assassin that he had hired especially for this mission. Captain Enjolras had been the only pirate bold enough to ever stand up and speak out against Alesander. Although it was Enjolras who had declared war on the enemy, Alesander had never lost a battle in his life and he was fully prepared to fight and win. Alesander’s ship, the Hellhound, was infamous for the blood thirst of its leader, who wished to wipe out every pirate on earth if they did not bow down to him. He had hired the assassin about a year ago. The assassin, did not so much care for Alesander, although he was an incredibly swift and talented assassin. However, he was offered a job, money, food, a crew, and a place to stay...even if it wason a ship.

“The men are taking their positions.” Said Alesander.

“If you need me to get on their ship, you’ll have to approach it closely.”

“I will see it done.” Said Alesander. “Kill anyone in your path, but above all- kill Enjolras, their  
￼captain.”

“I will see it done.” Replied the assassin, unaffected by the idea of taking one _small_ life.

_______________________________________________________________________  
The rain was pouring down now and the Hellhound was approaching Les Amis from the left. Enjolras was steering the ship, prepared to turn when the time would come to fire at the enemy.

“Hold cannons!” Called Enjolras as the two ships turned into one another. Enjolras waited until the two ships were lined up side by side before calling, “Fire!” The enemy fired as well, and their cannons were stronger and in greater number. “Guns,” Called Enjolras. “Fire.” Enjolras’s men began to shoot at the main deck of the Hellhound, but Alesander’s crew quickly retaliated and fired back. Bahorel was hit immediately in the arm. He stumbled back and pressed a hand to the blood seeping out of his bicep. He scowled angrily before firing at the Hellhound again and again.

The two ships continued to circle each other for what seemed like hours. Not too many of Enjolras’s men had fallen, and none of his closest friends- not yet. Enjolras was shooting madly at the Hellhound, trying to spot Alesander on the deck, but he was not in sight. “Damn.” He hissed. It was then he heard a scream- a scream from his own deck. He looked around the deck and began to run in the direction of the nose, recognizing the scream as having the voice of Joly. Enjolras spotted Joly under the main mast, standing, gazing after the Hellhound.  
“No.” Whispered Enjolras. He looked after the Hellhound too to see Jehan holding onto the rope, swinging from the main mast and onto the enemy ship. “No!” Enjolras shouted, knowing nonetheless that it was too late. At the same time, another man was doing the same, but from the Hellhound coming aboard the Les Amis. Jehan released the rope and landing aboard the Hellhound with a thud, falling onto the deck at the same time the enemy landed on his feet aboard the Les Amis. The Assassin held a gun a crewmember’s head and shot. And then another. And then another before Joly tackled his from behind and pinned him to the floor. Enjolras looked to the Hellhound and watched Jehan take out at least ten men, shouting, “Long live the men of the seas! Freedom for all!” Before a gun was placed at his head. Enjolras felt sick. He watched hopelessly as Jehan, the most sincere of them all, was shot to his likely death. His body did not stiffen, but fell limply to the floor out of sight. The first of his closest friends had fallen. His eyes widened as he thought of Courfeyrac, and he approached the assassin, pinned under Joly’s weight.

“What do we do, captain?” He asked.

“We do not tell Courfeyrac.” Enjolras insisted. He drew his gun and held at the assassin. “Your friends have just shot you.” He looked around. “We take him to the brig.” He cleared his throat, examining the face of the assassin, whose eyes were closed, perhaps awaiting death.

The assassin looked slightly familiar to Enjolras. “Open your eyes.” The leader ordered.

The assassin smiled with one side of his mouth and opened his eyes, but he did not recognize Enjolras like Enjolras recognized him.

Enjolras fell to his knees when he saw the assassin’s eyes- the blackest of black. His dark, wet curls lay strewn across his face and he breathed hard. He gave Joly a shove and sat up, to which Enjolras grabbed his collar and pinned him against the mast.

“Who are you?” Enjolras demanded.

￼The assassin laughed halfheartedly, pulling a knife from his boot and holding it at Enjolras’s throat. Combeferre pulled Enjolras back as Bossuet wrestled the knife out of the assassin’s hand and punched the assassin several times until he was unconscious. Bossuet stood. “To the brig with him.” He said.

The battle lasted for hours. Every single man of the Les Amis had stormed the Hellhound. Enjolras had decided to take the battle to them, but his true intentions were to recover Jehan’s body. Enjolras had nearly killed himself in the battle with Alesander, but at the end of the day, by some miracle, the men of the Les Amis won. Most had died, but none of those closest to Enjolras. The men of the Hellhound surrendered and Jehan’s body was recovered.

What was remarkable, however, was that Jehan had been grazed by the bullet and feigned his own death. He was taken to the hospital wing of the Les Amis, which was currently sailing to the nearest port to be repaired, and to recruit knew crewmembers now that nearly all of them had been wiped out. Courfeyrac never left his side.

Meanwhile, Enjolras was in the infirmary as well, tossing in turning in a feverish nightmare. He dreamed that his friends were shot- one by one, over and over, in a day similar to today, but they were not on a ship. They were on land, in a place that Enjolras did not recognize.

He awoke shaking and sweating. Several bullet wounds he had received on his right arm had become infected, and he became ill quickly. They would not reach the port for two days, and until then, he, nor any of the injured, would have proper medicine. The ride to port would be even longer with such fewer men manning the ship.

Enjolras lie in bed the night after the battle. He could not sleep, and his health was in poor condition. He rubbed his eyes and cursed under his breath and he stood from his bed and stumbled out of the infirmary. He went below the docks and opened the door to the brig to find the assassin. He was in a cell in the back of the room, sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall, sleeping.

“Wake up.” Enjolras demanded, coughing.

The assassin woke without a start and cocked his head to the side when he saw Enjolras. “What does a man have to do to get a drink around here?” He responded.

Enjolras grabbed the cell bars in an attempt both to balance himself and to get as close to the prisoner as possible. “I know who you are.” Enjolras said.

The assassin laughed. “I don’t think I would forget such a pretty face.”

Enjolras drew a chain of keys from his trousers and unlocked the cell, stepping in and kneeling down right next to the prisoner.

“I know you. I swear.” He insisted. “You don’t.” The assassin smirked. “Paris, France.” Enjolras replied. “1832.” “What are you talking about?”

“I knew you then.”

“Are you mad? It’s only 1595.”

“I know.” Said Enjolras. “But on the sixth of June, 1832, in Paris, France, you will die by my side.”

The assassin laughed again. “You’re mad. You should be the one locked away, not me.

“Your name is Grantaire. You’re an alcoholic and you believe in nothing. The concept of hope, to you, is deceiving, and you only have faith when one you love tells you to.” With every word, the smirk on the assassin’s face faded. “And you’re a fool.” Added Enjolras.

The assassin stared at the captain without saying a word. They searched each other’s eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Enjolras?” Grantaire whispered.


End file.
